


Gone, Gone, Gone

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, M/M, Stucky - Freeform, as always, buckys sad, steve x bucky - Freeform, steves dead but then hes not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 20:21:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4849196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's been gone for six months.</p><p>Bucky's having a hard time with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gone, Gone, Gone

   Bucky hasn’t really felt anything since Steve died. Things are, for the most part, dull. He puts on an act- tries, at least, in front of the other Avengers. He smiles when he’s supposed to, laughs at the right times, and makes it seem like he’s coping.

   Except he’s not.

    Natalia- Natasha, now; he keeps forgetting. She corners him one day, crossing her arms and waiting for Bucky to talk. He doesn’t.

“You’re not fooling anybody, James.”

   Bucky looks at the ground. Steve went MIA six months ago. They haven’t found his body yet. Bucky’s not even sure if it’s possible. The whole Avengers team was out on a mission; some bad guys with even worse weapons were attacking Washington. Steve and Bucky were in the middle of the mess, back to back, fighting in sync, when they shot Steve with one of the mechanisms they pulled out of, seemingly, nowhere. Bucky turned around, and Steve was gone.

   Bucky remembers falling to his knees, Steve’s shield resting in front of him. He remembers Natasha yelling at him to snap out of it, to focus on the mission, but he didn’t want to. He couldn’t. From then to when they arrived at the Avengers’ tower, however, is a blur.

   They managed to get the gun they shot Steve with. Bucky loitered around the lab that they were processing all the information in. He was antsy, pacing for hours, hoping they’d find out what happened to Steve and where to find him.

  They didn’t.

  They still haven’t.

“I’m fine, Natasha,” he replies, not wanting to talk about it. He probably won’t be able to.

“You still sleep on the couch, don’t you? Have you even _been_ in the bedroom since he went missing?”

   Bucky scoffed at that. _Missing._ Everyone pretended to believe Steve was still alive for Bucky’s sake. It didn’t help. Natasha’s right, though. The room reminds him of Steve more than he wants it to. He can’t handle that.

   He’s tried to get his mind off of it. He’s talked with Sam, he sparred with Natasha, and he went to the shooting range with Clint. It worked, for a while. He learned to focus his mind on his current task. Eventually, though, the only justice it did was reminding him of how he and Steve used to do those things together.

“What do you want me to say, Natasha?  That I’m a mess? That I can’t live without him?” Bucky pauses, and laughs bitterly. “Fine. I’m not okay. Far from it. I thought that I could have Steve, that I could be happy with him. I was so, so stupid. It was inevitable that he’d be ripped away from me.”

“James-“ Natasha tries, putting her hand on Bucky’s shoulder, but Bucky interrupts her.

“No. It ain’t easy all that easy losing someone you love, Nat.”

   Bucky shrugged Natasha’s hand off his shoulder. He couldn’t deal with this. He turned around, walking towards the doors.

“It’s not your fault,” she called from behind him.

Bucky stopped. He shook his head, saying, “Steve’s gone, Nat. He’s not coming back. Doesn’t matter whose fault it is anymore.”

   He went to the elevator, planning on going to his and Steve’s apartment that Tony built for them. He walked in the door, looking around at the mess. Chairs were flipped, glass was shattered, and there were a few fist-sized dents in the wall. Bucky hasn’t bothered cleaning any of it. He’s just let it sit there for months.

   He walked down the hallway, towards the bedroom. He just stood in front of the door, staring at it. Eventually, he raised a hand, and pushed the door open. It was the first time he’s seen it in months. Their bedroom was the only part of the apartment that wasn’t a mess. It hasn’t been touched since Steve died.

   Slowly, Bucky made his way to the bed. Steve’s sweater was on the bed, still lying there from the day before the fight. Bucky had been complaining about how cold it was. Steve gave him the sweater, but Bucky decided he liked Steve’s warmth better.

   He sat on the bed, grabbing the sweater. He sat and stared at it for a bit. He ran his fingers over the hem a few times. Bucky then curled around the sweater. He could still smell Steve’s aftershave. His eyes drifted shut, eventually, tears running down his face and onto the sweater.

* * *

 

   When Bucky woke up, he couldn’t take it. He needed to get out of the tower. He went to the door, toeing on his boots as quick as he could. He went to the first floor, out the front doors, and onto the street.

   He ran. Not with direction, not with purpose, but with the intent of not looking back.

   By the time it was sundown, Bucky was still out. He ended up running for miles. He wasn't really sure of the exact distance. Sometimes he’s thankful for the serum. Bucky started walking back to the tower, though he was unsure of how he would. He knew he wasn’t in New York City anymore.

   Bucky looked up from the sidewalk. A man, around six feet tall, was walking in the opposite direction. Bucky stopped. The man was still quite a ways away, but Bucky knew that face.

   He tried to say something, but he couldn’t find his voice. By the time the man was closer, Bucky’s voice broke the silence.

 He sounded hoarse, a result of not talking all day. “Steve,” he said, breathless.

The man looked up. “Buck?”

Bucky’s face broke into a grin. “Hiya, Stevie.” Bucky didn’t feel composed, and it showed in his voice.

   Steve stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s torso. He hid his head in Bucky’s neck, breathing in his scent, drinking it in. They stood there in the silence for a while. Anything they needed to say was already shown in their body language.

“I thought you were dead,” Bucky said, eventually.

“I know,” Steve said, his breath hitching, “I’m sorry.”

   Bucky pulled away just enough to see Steve’s face. He brought his hand up to Steve’s face, brushing some of the hair out of his eyes.

“Where’d you go, Stevie?” Bucky asked with despair dripping from his voice.

“I’m not really sure. I think I was in factory, maybe, hidden underground. They kept me in a cell. It was cold, Buck. I couldn’t stand it, but I knew I needed to get back to you.”

   Bucky runs a thumb down Steve’s cheek. He laughs, lightly, and pulls Steve’s face towards his, pressing his lips to Steve’s. They kissed for a while, before Steve pulled away, grabbing Bucky’s hand.

“Let’s go home, Buck.”

* * *

 

Once they manage to find their way back, Natasha looks at them smugly.

They go up to their apartment. Steve walked in the door, shocked at the condition of the place.

“Buck…” He started.

“I can’t say it was easy, Steve.”

They don’t bring it up again.

   After that, Steve and Bucky were always by each other’s side. They’re usually sitting on the couch in the lounge of the Avengers’ Tower, resting. Everyone teases them about how they’re constantly touching, or how there’s always a tongue shoved down somebody’s throat, but they just ignore it.

Bucky flips them off, anyways.

Steve’s back, though. Bucky’s not going to lose him this time.

He’s with Steve till the end of the line, after all.


End file.
